


James Brown Ain't Got Nothin' On Feuilly

by booksaremyreality



Series: Multi-Fandom Drabbles [7]
Category: Les Misérables (2012)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sleep Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 12:40:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1387996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/booksaremyreality/pseuds/booksaremyreality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Feuilly works too hard and Bahorel is tired of his shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	James Brown Ain't Got Nothin' On Feuilly

**Author's Note:**

> this little idea just popped into my head, inspired by a post I saw on tumblr.

Feuilly has been working for over three days straight. In a series of unfortunate events Feuilly had ended up working triple over time and covering for four other people. But he couldn't complain, he needed the money. He stumbled into the Musain, slumping against the door frame. 

"Feuilly, my dear friend, how nice of you to join us for a change!" Courfeyrac cried good-naturedly from the couch. Jehan was curled into his side, his nose buried in a poetry book. 

Bahorel, who was sitting in a far corner with a croissant and a cup of hot chocolate, looked up at the mention of Feuilly's name. Feuilly's knees trembled, his legs barely supporting him as he tried to push himself off the door frame. His entire body ached with fatigue, even his bones felt tired. He didn't know how much longer he would be able to stay awake. 

Comberre shot him a worried look. He tried to smile but he imagined that it looked more like a grimace. 

"Well don't hover like a bat, come sit down!" Courfeyrac said.

Feuilly took two steps and then collapsed, body hitting the hard wood floor with a muffled thump. All of Les Amis stopped what they were doing, some getting out of their chairs. Joly ran towards him, going to his knees beside him. Feuilly wasn't completely asleep, eyes fluttering. But he couldn't move, his limbs felt like lead. 

"Feuilly? Feuilly, can you hear me?" Joly held his face in his cold hands, turning his head side to side gently. Bahorel hovered behind him anxiously, brow furrowed. The other members of the ABC hovered at a further distance, looking worried. 

Feuilly's hand scrambled weakly at the floor towards Bahorel, meaning to take his hand. Bahorel got the message and took Feuilly's clammy hand in his warm one. 

"You stupid little ginger shit." Bahorel murmured. 

"Sorry." He slurred. 

"Don't try to talk. I'm going to ask you some questions. Blink once for yes and twice for no. Do you understand?" Joly said, snapping his fingers in front of his eyes. Feuilly blinked once. "Good. Have you eaten in the last 24 hours?" One blink. "Have you slept in the last 24 hours?" Two blinks. Joly's mouth twisted into a disapproving frown. "Last 48?" Two blinks. "Last 72?" Two blinks.

"Feuilly!" Enjolras cried in protest. 

"Well thankfully, you're not sick, just sleep deprived. The only medicine you need is sleep, doctor's orders." Joly said, before getting up and letting Bahorel crowd him. 

"Feuilly, you little asshole." Bahorel snapped, lifting him in his arms. "I'm going to take him home, okay?" He said, not bothering to look back. Feuilly couldn't even lift his arms to wrap them around Bahorel's neck, one folded itself over his stomach and the other dangling uselessly at his side. 

"I love you." Feuilly whispered, low enough so that only Bahorel could hear him. 

"Shut up, asshole." 

**Author's Note:**

> It was kind of late when I wrote this so please point out any mistakes, constructive criticism welcome!


End file.
